


Ride Of Their Lives

by EmetoOmo



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Motion Sickness, Sickfic, Vomiting, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 18:42:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15612537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmetoOmo/pseuds/EmetoOmo
Summary: Hanzo and McCree head to a local cultural faire where they celebrate the different alcohol around the world.





	Ride Of Their Lives

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous asked: McHanzo @ a theme park. Both of them being able to go on the traditionally scary rides, all the fast, high and twisty ones. And so a dare begins. Once they’ve run out of major rides to go on, Jesse joking suggests the teacups. At first he’s laughing at the way Hanzo’s face becomes pale and the hand tightly griping onto the hem of his shirt. Until he notices that he’s being met with nothing but silence and Hanzo’s cheeks puff out slightly.

“You can’t possibly still be hungry,” McCree said as he realized rather suddenly that Hanzo had—yet again—stopped following him. Turning around, he found him at what had to be the third  _separate_  funnel cake truck since they’d come to the festival.  

With a heavy sigh, he turned around, and joined his boyfriend in the line. 

He wasn’t quite sure of the cultural significance of whatever this festival was. While Hanzo wasn’t one to head out into crowded spaces with people pressed practically body to body, nor did he have a drive for the thrill of roller coasters—though admittedly, he did enjoy them a lot once he was on them—McCree had talked him into this festival fiasco with the one common ground they could come to. 

Alcohol. It was some kind of alcohol festival.  

All around them were themed rides and cultural nods to the different styles of alcohol and drinks in the world. The air was thick with the smell of barley, hops, and body odor on this particular stretch of park, but after a day full of riding each and every roller coaster that McCree could find, Hanzo had taken a gotten fairly well distracted with the food trucks. 

Namely,  _funnel cakes._

“You just had a funnel cake not twenty minutes ago.” McCree protested as they moved further up in line. 

“It was strawberry.” Hanzo said as if that answered everything. 

“You had another one fifteen minutes before that one.” The cowboy pointed out. 

“It was plain. Just powdered sugar.”  

McCree rolled his eyes. “And this one?” 

“Chocolate and caramel.” 

He sighed heavily, antsy to ride more rides. Particularly a ‘teacup’ style ride that was made out of shot glasses. “Look, love, I’ll buy you this round of funnel cakes if you ride Shots, Shots, Shots with me,” McCree offered, hoping the ride would give him enough of a buffer to distract his lover’s gluttonous sweet tooth.  

Hanzo looked back to where his lovers gaze was set, and then shrugged. “If I must.”  

McCree had not expected it to go over so easily. “Really?” 

“It is just a ride.”  

“Well, yeah but—“ 

“Then I have the better end of this arrangement.” The archer sounded so very sure of himself.  

“I mean, I guess if cakes really mean that much to ya…” 

They did. Cakes really did mean that much to him.  

Twenty minutes and an oversized chocolate caramel funnel cake later, McCree was leading Hanzo into the line for Shots, Shots, Shots. His eyes were alight with excitement for it, having just become more and more antsy the longer it had taken for Hanzo to get his cake and eat it. Hanzo made a soft chiding noise out of his nose at his boyfriend’s hyper energy. “Must you bounce around so?” 

“If my bouncin is botherin you, you’re gonna have a heckuva time handlin the ride.”  

Hanzo shook his head disapprovingly, but McCree could read right through his overly stern and composed exterior. He found McCree’s ability to get excited like a child on Christmas about the littlest thing to be entirely endearing, and part of one of the reasons he loved him so much. “I will be just fine.” 

“With all them cakes on your tummy—“ 

“Must you call it that? You are a grown man.” The archer frowned, side eying him.  

“I’m sorry, Tum-Tum.” 

 Hanzo rubbed his face in frustration. “That is worse.” 

Jesse smirked then, lighting up his cigar to puff off from with a shit-eating grin. “Well, if your gonna argue sem…schematics—“ 

“Semantics…” 

“What I said, Schematics, then beggars can’t be choosers.”  

Hanzo popped the top off jug on his side and took a deep swig of his sake with what sounded like a quiet growl, but otherwise remained silent.  

The line seemed to take forever to move, screaming erupting on the ride itself. Overall though, it was fun to watch the faux liquid alcohol trapped between the reinforced clear material that made the shot glasses slosh around was the people within them were twirled in circles in the cups themselves as well as the ride itself. McCree almost felt it to be a bit dizzying just to watch, but all the same he was growing more and more excited the closer they got to the front. 

Meanwhile, Hanzo grew quieter, drinking his sake while they waited.  

“You’re gonna be drunk before we get to the front.” 

“Nonsense, I don’t get drunk.” Hanzo said simply, and took another drink to spite him. 

“Functionin’ alcoholic is still drunk, love.” McCree stated, watching him and shaking his head.  

“I can still out shoot you, cowboy.” There was an impish smile on his lips as he said it, just a hint of a devilish grin that came out when Hanzo was sauced enough to forget to hide it.  

McCree laughed, a rich and hearty sound that resonated in his barrel chest. “Now I know your drunk.”  

“Scared?” 

“Of you bein drunk?” 

“Of me beating you in a shoot out.”  

That had McCree laughing even harder, his hand falling to his stomach as it jiggled from the force of every chuckle. “You got a license to pilot them dragons while drinkin?”  

“No license needed to remind you who is better,” he said, leaning in close to his ear, the smell of sake strong on his breath. 

“You’re gonna have to put that on hold, first. We’re next. You still want to do that when we’re done here, then I know a good field we can go shoot some shit off a fence post.” McCree grabbed his hand and tugged him through the gate, onto the ride.  

It likely should have crossed their minds after three funnel cakes that this likely was a bad idea, or when Jesse had to fasten the janky seatbelt for Hanzo who insisted that his balance was good enough that he had no need for it. Throwing caution to the wind, however, McCree pulled his had off and into his lap to hold as the ride begun to spin to life.  

It wasn’t too bad at first, just the large control arms seemed to be what swung them around in a giant slow circle, a minor bit of pull from gravity tugging them to the side. Hanzo looked bored when McCree had looked over at him with a large smile and tossed his arm around him.  

As the sound of another set of gears releasing, however, the shot glass itself begun to spin in quick circles along with their main revolution. The wind flew through McCree’s hair and whipped it wildly around his face the same as it had caught Hanzo’s bangs. Boredom on the archer’s face was soon coated in a sheen of sweat as his eyes begun to waver.  

“Hey, you gonna be okay over there, Hanzo?” McCree yelled over the sounds of the excited screams and overly loud tuba tooting along with the ride’s music.

Hanzo’s head bobbed once before his cheeks suddenly puffed out, his eyes widening.  

“Fuck!” Jesse yelled, realizing he had nowhere to go.  

He archer tried to swallow it back, but his equilibrium had other ideas as it fought against both spin and sake. A bubbling retch left him and with is a thick spew of vomit that whipped forth from his mouth, and carried by the ride, was thrown all over the people in the cart behind them.  

It started a chain reaction, and McCree was busy trying to rub Hanzo’s back and praying the next one wasn’t going to start spraying all over him. With luck, the ride’s operator caught the action, and hit the emergency stop button. The damage had been done, however. The sympathetic retching could be heard all around, and McCree could barely get his and Hanzo’s seatbelts off before Hanzo just pitched forward and vomited all over the floor of their cart. Sake and undigested funnel cake mixed and congealed into a terrible smell and consistency, forcing its way from his mouth and nose while McCree resigned himself to hold him and rub his back. 

“Hey, get him off the ride while he does that!” The operator ordered as he came running over.  

With his hat once again on his head, it cast a shadow over McCree’s dark eyes as he glared at the grizzled gangly man defiantly, continuing to rub Hanzo’s back. “Don’t you pay him no mind. You get it out, and we’ll move when you feel you’re ready.” 

“I said get your drunk piece o’ ass off my ride, ya—“  Whatever was about to come out of his lips next was silenced by the metallic sounding impact of McCree’s false hand into the man’s throat, leaving him to finish comforting his sick boyfriend.  

Hanzo wiped his mouth after a moment, and tossed McCree a more sober grin, one that was proud and grateful to him. 

 “Let’s get you back home, I think we had enough of this shit show for a day,” McCree smiled at him, kissing his temple and helping him out and around of the sick. An arm wrapped around the archer’s waist, they made their way out. 


End file.
